


follow-through

by Alethia



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Brad POV, Canon Era, Comment Fic, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-15
Updated: 2009-07-15
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6806623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But a tease implies a lack of follow-through. You've never bothered to ask."</p>
            </blockquote>





	follow-through

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the fictionalized characters in the HBO miniseries, _Generation Kill_ , as written by Ed Burns and David Simon and as portrayed by Alexander Skarsgard, Stark Sands, and others. It is a work of fiction ergo it never happened.
> 
> Picture-based comment!fic, originally posted [here](http://hackthis.livejournal.com/533943.html?thread=15479735#t15479735).

"Look at that. The LT, all by his lonesome," Brad said, leaning his weapon against the victor's wheel and propping himself against the cooling metal of the Humvee.

Nate looked up from his map, but left his red flashlight on. "I put Christeson and Stafford on watch with Doc." Nate said it with amusement, like an offering, and an offering it was.

Brad leveled his gaze. "You've been hiding a sadistic streak under all that concern, with none the wiser." He paused a beat. "I have deep respect."

"Spending much time thinking about my sadistic streak, are we?"

"Just when it's an altar boy with a cocksucker's mouth. You're the only one of those around here."

Nate thrust out his bottom lip in exaggerated contemplation. "So you have a type. Good to know."

"Cocktease," Brad muttered, watching Nate bite his bottom lip. 

"How do you figure?"

"Your mouth is pretty blatant."

"But a tease implies a lack of follow-through. You've never bothered to ask."

He scoffed. "The Iceman doesn't _ask_. People drop to their knees spontaneously."

Nate's eyes flicked down Brad's frame. "Not to doubt your charms, Brad, but four days of stewing in your own juices doesn't exactly make that an appealing option."

"Ahh, the prissy Ivy fuck reveals himself," Brad said sagely.

Nate stepped in, close. "Besides, when I do _follow through_ , I want time—to explore, to find out what makes you moan, what makes you beg."

"Beg?" Brad asked thickly. The disbelief he'd aimed for was completely absent from his tone. Fuck.

"Yes, Brad, beg. Beg me to suck you or fuck you or do whatever I want so long as I let you come. Which you will while shouting my name. In the meantime, there are better uses for my mouth." Nate didn't move back, simply watched him expectantly. 

Brad was pretty fuckin' sure his voice was gonna fail him, so he stayed silent.

Nate quirked an eyebrow. "Not gonna ask?"

Fuck. Of course Nate would push the issue. Brad cleared his throat. "If you've got intel, _Nate_ , I'm sure you'll advise accordingly."

Nate's lips quirked. He grabbed Brad's vest, pulling him close. His tongue darted out and licked at Brad's bottom lip, once, light. Brad sucked in a startled breath and licked his lips. 

He could feel Nate's exhaled laugh against his mouth. Then Nate did it again, this time dipping inside Brad's parted lips to tease his tongue. 

Done with the bullshit teasing, Brad crushed their mouths together, bit at those full lips of his, because _fuck yes_ , Nate did have a talented little mouth and Brad wanted to absolutely obscene things with it. To it. 

He rhythmically thrust his tongue in, Nate's groan something he could taste, but he must be losing it because only then did he notice that Nate hands were slipping into his clothes, under, finding skin. Finding very _important_ skin; Brad swallowed a gasp when Nate's hand wrapped around his cock and stroked once.

"You're quiet," Nate murmured against his mouth, stroking his cock as Brad dug through his clothes to return the favor. "Think I'll enjoy making you yell."

The words went straight through him, the pleasure of Nate's hand suddenly flaring bright, unavoidable. Fuck, this wasn't gonna take long.

Brad gripped Nate's cock, jerked his hand up once, palming the slick head, before wrapping around him again. Nate made some kind of soft sound and his rhythm faltered.

"Me, Nate? I do believe you'll be the one yelling." He stroked him hard, fast, enough to get his breathing shaky in seconds.

Then he stopped. "Not gonna ask?" Brad taunted, licking at Nate's mouth.

Nate bit at his tongue. "Shut the fuck up and get me off," Nate growled. Then he fused their mouths together again and firmed his own grip. 

Brad's vision wavered as heat pulsed through him. But the urgency of that tone demanded obedience, so he moved his hand and fucked into Nate's fist and sucked on his tongue until he felt Nate shuddering under him, felt his fingers reflexively tighten—

Then Brad, too, was coming in a mindless rush—silent and still and all over Nate's hand.

Nate slowed his strokes and Brad followed suit, echoes of pleasure curling in his gut. They breathed in unison, into each other's mouths, and Nate made another of those _sounds_ when Brad's hand got to be too much. 

Brad wanted to haul him into the back of the Humvee, strip off his clothes and lick him everywhere, see what else could garner that sound. He was pretty sure that by the end of it _he_ wouldn't be the one begging...but Nate didn't need to know that. Yet.

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


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